Pot Kettle Black
by Silvite's Cry
Summary: in which confusion is abound and people don't know how to be tactful. Pushing the T rating.


**DISCLAMER: TWEWY AND ALL AFFILIATED CHARACTERS DO NOT BELONG TO ME, BUT TO SQUAREENIX.**

* * *

_I bet you think we didn't know, didn't even see the tides change  
But it's a small, small world girl, gettin' even smaller every day_

She couldn't believe how it had spread so rapidly. It wasn't like he was a _bad_ guy; no, Daisukenojo Bito was one of the sweetest boys that she had ever met. He knew her so well, and they just… clicked. Got along. It would always be that way. So really, why was it just so… scandalous? So weird? She loved him, he loved her. Simple, really.

_I bet you think we didn't know, didn't even see the tides change  
But it's a small, small world girl, gettin' even smaller every day_

Not to mention that he didn't even try to patronize her. He was always understanding, and was always the shoulder that she could cry on. When Neku said _'no, I can really only see you as a sister, I just want to stay friends,'_ or even Shuto blew her off in favor of playing Tin Pin, she would always, always, _always_ go to him.

_You can fake that smile for a hell of a while  
But the kids all run when some bridges burn_

And for a while, it seemed like nobody knew. Every morning, he'd walk with her to school, even while he was seeking a higher education. He'd always see her off with a hug, a playful pat on the shoulder, a ruffle of her short blonde hair; always something to let her know that things were always okay, and don't worry, because I'll see you right here, ready to hold your school bag so you can tell me about your day, gestures included. It kept all the way through secondary school, middle school, high school. And here she was, a junior. Oh, and he had saved up his money, and gotten her a bike. That was a nice gift from him, although it wasn't needed.

_The trash washes up to shore even in this landlocked place  
The shit gets thicker, it's toxic get it out of my face_

But she would use it anyway. It was a gift from him, and that meant it was worth more than money. So she rode the bike, and he glided next to her on his board. All crowds made sure not to be in their way as they zoomed along; he in his casual dress (he worked at the Wild Boar in Udagawa, not like he needed a uniform) on his board, and she in a high-schooler's uniform, skirt yielding to her pedaling and giving the occasional pervert some eye candy. Not that she looked that old, really. She was very slight, not all that different from when they had 'died', from when they had played that Game that changed the both of them, made them closer than ever.

_The trash washes up to shore even in this landlocked place  
The shit gets thicker, it's toxic get it out of my face_

But there was this one day, on the way home, when she had accidentally kept on pedaling while he had stopped in front of her. Before she knew it both bike and board were somewhere else and their faces were so _close_ and then he was _kissing her_ and she didn't pull away; quickly, quickly, they just kept on going. Both went in the house and years, years, _years_ of holding things back came to light. It was for the best, in both of their minds. It _felt_ right, they both knew that. As he said, so very often, "Fuck tha' rest, Rhyme, 'cause we're all that really matters."

_But don't be surprised if they don't buy your lies  
All of us can see through your stained-glass eyes_

And then the walks to and from school were… sweeter, somehow. Knowing that they completed each other, she knew that there was nothing to fear. Questions were asked, and she would reply with a sweet "No, we're just really close, is all." Sure, the relationship was deemed unhealthy in most circles. But… she loved him. He loved her. That's all, that's all.

_Pot Kettle Pot Kettle Black, talk that talk that smack  
Pot Kettle Pot Kettle Black, watch your watch your back  
Pot Kettle Pot Kettle Black, talk that talk that smack  
Pot Kettle Pot Kettle Black, watch your watch your back_

But then again, some people… well, they didn't take kindly to it. At all. She remembers how Neku was so… shocked, for lack of better words. But he understood after a while. Shiki was nothing but supportive. And Joshua (they talked on occasion, he _seemed_ nice enough, no matter what Neku said about him) would simply smile, call it cute in that endearing tone of his, and go and do his own thing. They didn't talk, so…

_Oh my god, did you hear? About that bitch and what she did?  
I don't believe it, nuh-uh, what a ho, what a tramp, what a slut_

Maybe someone had seen. Maybe, judging from the looks her friends would give whenever he was near.

"That's not healthy, you know."

"Shouldn't you spend time away from your brother?"

But he would support her, he would make her feel _amazing_ even in the worst of times, he would do anything for her and she would do the same for him.

And then there was that day where the red paint was all over their door, after they both came home from school:

**WHORE**

**TRAMP**

**SLUT**

_Pot Kettle Pot Kettle Black, talk that talk that smack  
Pot Kettle Pot Kettle Black, watch your watch your back  
Pot Kettle Pot Kettle Black, talk talk talk that smack  
Pot Kettle Pot Kettle Black, watch watch watch your back_

She couldn't believe how it had spread so rapidly. It wasn't like he was a _bad_ guy; no, Daisukenojo Bito was one of the sweetest boys that she had ever met. He knew her so well, and they just… clicked. Got along. It would always be that way. So really, why was it just so… scandalous? So weird? She loved him, he loved her. Simple, really.

Rhyme Bito cried on her brother's shoulder that day. And for once, Beat had no words to say, but silently reassured her that, just like that Game, they would get through it. After all, this was just another bump, not a crash.

Nothing could end them, ever.


End file.
